


Prompts From Tumblr

by E_Bel



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Breaking the Bed, Gen, HateShip, M/M, Medication, Mental Hospital, Partners in Crime, Reset Button, Sharing a Bed, crossing the boundries of patient-caretaker professionalism, dream is just not interested, excuses to share a bed, mentions of attempted murder, more to come as I do more prompts, over protective big brothers, pretending to be mad at each other so people leave you alone, there's just too many people on it, trying to shoot down someone while still being nice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 23:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17090117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Bel/pseuds/E_Bel
Summary: I'm finally getting around to cross-posting a lot of my stuff from Tumblr, so here's where all the ask-prompts from my blog are going to go.Series of one-shots that are all going to be Undertale-based but unrelated to each other.





	1. Crink 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Azure-Night-Owl: Hi I'm a massive fan of your works and I adore your writing very much, may I ask for some Crink? Something post X-Event, perhaps, when Ink regrets starting it? That or, post X-Event, and Cross has the overwrite not Ink and is able to use it. Ink misses the Overwrite, and while Cross won't hand it over, he will create little things to make Ink smile?

The bright yellow of the flowers stood out heavily in the monochrome world in which they grew. Ink knelt in the field to feel the petals, and also to block out the sight of the otherwise colourless world with the yellow. The black and white background tended to give him the chills when he stared at it for too long; he didn’t like places that didn’t have much colour in them. But there were plenty of yellow flowers for him to focus on and he’d long since figured out what to do in order to avoid a panic. Ink was intimately familiar with this place. This was the original state of the X-Tale, after all. A recreation of what it had once been, so very long ago. The hands taking charge of the AU had changed since that time long ago, though. In Ink’s, admittedly biased, opinion, it was a change for the better.

“Hey,”

The voice made Ink smile and he turned around to see Cross with his hands out and a shy smile on his face. Ink took his time standing up and walking over to Cross, intertwining their hands.

“So, this surprise of yours all ready?”

Cross seemed to be too excited for words, tugging at Ink’s hands to lead him away. Ink let Cross pull him through the flowers to wherever Cross was taking him. Some shapes that were not typical began to appear in his vision, revealing them to be a pair of chairs and a garden table. The garden furniture was of the same monochromatic colour scheme as the rest of the AU, with only some yellow decoration on them to make them stand out. It was what was on the table that got Ink excited, though. Two sets of paints with colours, actual colours, and a full set of brushes sat on the table. Around it sat white, paper lanterns, just waiting for some decoration.

Ink practically dragged the monochrome skeleton over to the table.

* * *

Brushes dipped first into the desired colour and then onto the canvas, the colourful line joining others similar to it in the growing picture. Ink washed off the now unneeded colour, pondering the current progress and what should be added. The brush tip slipped in between his teeth subconsciously as he thought. A glance across the table showed Cross focused intently on his own lantern, tongue poking out of his mouth as he swirled red spirals over the white surface.

Ink stared until he realised what he was doing, hurriedly ducking his head and dipping his paintbrush in the purple. A flourish finished off his lantern and he placed it alongside the other finished lanterns. A mischievous grin split his face as he thought of his next lantern and he hurried back to his seat, grabbing a new lantern and sipping his brush in the black paint. Cross was too preoccupied with his own creation to notice what he was doing.

“Hey, Cross!”

Cross’ eyes darted upward at the call and Ink presented his new creation with a cheeky grin.

“What do you think?”

“Real funny.” The sarcastic tone only made Ink burst into laughter, trying hard not to drop or shake his newly painted lantern. A stray streak would ruin the cowhide pattern, after all. Ink places it to dry, Cross next to him setting his own down. They each grabbed one of the two final lanterns and set down for the final painting. Ink wondered what he should paint, chewing idly at the brush as he thought. A flash of inspiration hit him and he went to start painting but paused with a frown.

“What’s wrong?” He looked up startled, not expecting Cross to speak.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just thought that this would have looked better if the lantern was black, that’s all.” Ink didn’t see much of what happened next, focused on his lantern rather than anything else, but, after a tiny bit of glitching, the paper of the lantern turned from white to black. He looked up quickly; Cross was very obviously keeping his left hand out of sight and nothing left to see. Cross wouldn’t meet his eyes. It took more time than Ink would like to admit for him to stop searching for the button that he knew had once been there but he soon turned away again. There was an odd type of wistfulness in his chest. He did his best to ignore it.

* * *

 

“Easy, easy,” The line of dried lanterns, each with a lit candle inside, slowly rose into the sky. Ink held one end, Cross the other. The two carefully lifted the line higher and higher into the sky, being careful to not tip it too much to one side. A burnt lantern shell to the side stood as testimony to what would happen if they rushed this.

“This looks good.” With an appropriate height reached, the two skeletons each tied off their own end to the support poles and clambered back to the ground. Lines upon lines of lanterns were strung up over the field, their colours dancing over the flowers. Ink and Cross met in the middle and stared up at their work.

“Only one final touch,” Cross commented. Ink was pulled to his side, his left hand intertwined with Cross’ right. Cross gave him a peck on the cheek. “Keep watching the sky.”

In an instant, the usual white sky was replaced with a dazzling starry sky. Clear and bright, a thousand twinkling stars glistened alongside the glow of the lanterns. The new darkness made the candlelight dance on the yellow petals below. But Ink only saw it for a split second before he was drawn to look for Cross’ left hand. Cross was keeping it hidden by his leg, just out of sight of Ink. Ink knew it was not his hand that Cross was hiding from him, not really. The wistfulness was back; not even the beautiful view could make it go away. Ink stared up intently at the lanterns, head leaning on Cross’ shoulder, as though if he stared long enough, they would fix everything.

“I miss it sometimes.” Ink felt Cross squeeze his hand. More telling than anything, Cross would not look him in the eyes. Gaze stuck firmly on the sky, it took a while for Cross to bring his other hand around to clasp Ink’s.

“I know you do.”

The lanterns shone onwards, without a care in the world.


	2. DS!Dream x Original!Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt: DS Dream x Original Nightmare? 
> 
> Check my Tumblr because I have a long ramble about how I think a relationship between these two would work out and the story makes a lot more sense with it.
> 
> https://ebelwrites.tumblr.com/post/178515987376/ds-dream-x-original-nightmare

Dream slammed the cell door open, the solid metal door clanging heavily against the metal wall. The sound reverberated through the jail cell, bouncing off the walls. He slammed the door behind him, causing another loud clang to echo out. Almost all of the cell was pitch black, but the light from his wings easily gave him enough to see by. He felt his rage climb higher as the only response to his entrance was a soft, dark chuckle and the clanging of chains.

“My, my, my.” A single, blue eye-light shone in the darkness, accompanied by white teeth pulled into an almost unnaturally wide grin. “The all-wonderful, all-powerful angel deems me worthy of his presence, and in such a fabulous mood too! Truly, it is an honour!” The chains around Nightmare’s wrists, ankles, tentacles, and neck chittered and clanged as the black, tar-covered monster gave a mock bow.

“Shut your mouth, you demon!” Dream stalked forward, his wings burning brighter with the heat of his emotions. How he wished he had brought his claymore so he could simply run this demon through with it.

“Temper, temper!” Nightmare’s voice turned mock-offended, even placing a hand over his chest in a dramatic overreaction. “What in the world could have made you so upset? Did you just have to come from a funeral?” The mock-pity tone of the final sentence, along with the heavy sarcasm that had plagued all of Nightmare’s words, dissolved as he descended into dark chuckles. His voice turned dark and heavy; there was no guilt, only pride. “Your so-called researcher was a ludicrous fool. I made sure she paid the price for her arrogance.”

“She is still alive.” He shouldn’t have told Nightmare that, but he could no longer control himself. He would say anything if it got this demon to stop being so joyous, to take away the pleasure it felt at another’s suffering. “You did not manage to kill her. She is stable, and she will live.”

“Oh, really?” It disgusted Dream that there was a hint of actual disappointment in Nightmare’s tone. “I’ll have to try harder next time.”

Dream had picked Nightmare up and slammed him hard against the cell wall before he even consciously realised that he was moving. The tarred skeleton’s feet were no longer touching the ground and he struggled for breath with Dream’s hands clenched tightly around his collarbones, thumbs digging into his spine.

“I should kill you now.” Dream no longer had coherent thought, everything was lost in a firestorm of rage. “End your miserable existence. It would be so easy to do.” Why was that damned demon still smiling?

“You can’t kill me.” Nightmare wheezed the words out, grin still set wide on his face. “You need me.” It was all that kept Nightmare alive; his value for research was so precious that it outweighed any and all strife that the monster might cause. And the potential outcome of that research, the hopeful outcome of that research, was very important to Dream. If he killed Nightmare, there would be no second chance. No matter how much Dream himself hated it, he could not allow that to happen.

“You,” Dream was startled back into awareness as Nightmare began to speak again. A hand slipped behind his head. “Are so much more interesting when you’re angry.” And then Nightmare pushed his head down to meet his in a kiss.

The situation seemed to have caused a malfunction in Dream’s mind; too shocked at such an unexpected outcome, he stood there unmoving and not comprehending what was happening. It was only when Nightmare tried to slip his tongue inside his mouth that Dream finally came back to himself. A burst of light erupted from his wings, making Nightmare hiss in pain and pull away, and he threw the other monster away from him. The black creature scurried into the dark corners of the cell while Dream doubled over, trying to cough the taste out of his mouth.

“Mother-fucking BASTARD!” Dream let out another burst of light at the foul language, and perhaps because he had long since run out of patience. Nightmare screeched in pain, curling further into the corner in an attempt to get away from the damaging light. Without another word, Dream hurriedly exited the cell, locking the door behind him and quickly making his way back to his room. He had to wash his mouth out. Nightmare’s dark, broken, haunting laughter chased him as he left.


	3. Nightmare & Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from 1darkillusion: Over protective nightmare ( im work I gm on a version of this too) 
> 
> No ship this time. Just brothers.

Dream sighed as he climbed up the hill at a leisurely pace. The letter had asked him to meet at the top, though he was already planning excuses to cut the meeting short. He was not looking forward to this. It wasn’t the first time he had to turn down an unwanted advance and he doubted it would be the last. It would be flattering, if not for the fact that he knew perfectly well that none of them were actually interested in him, just in what being his datemate would mean for their status. He wondered how many times he’d have to state that he just wasn’t interested in anyone for people to finally understand; Probably far more than he would like to. He reached the top of the hill, spying the writer of the letter.

“Beatrix? I’m sorry, but I have-”

“Too many responsibilities to see anyone right now. I thought so.” She was shaking and fiddling with her hands. She wouldn’t look at him. “I-I gave it some more thought after I sent the letter to you and came to the same conclusion. I-I’m sorry for bothering you.” This was very strange; from what he knew of the girl, she was quite strong-willed. This was not normal behaviour, and she was very pale.

“Are you sick? You don’t seem well.” She almost jumped out of her skin, her eyes wide like a hunted animal.

“I-I- Maybe. I-I should go home. Rest.” There was definitely something up, Dream just couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Okay, you take care.” She practically flew down the hill after he spoke. He watched her leave with a suspicious glance, wondering what he was missing. He completely missed the flash of purple that was watching from nearby.

* * *

“Come on, just one date. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m really not interested, Ink.” Time had passed but some things never changed. Dream still got a number of unwanted advances, even with no tree left. Now it was his aura that attracted people, and it had attracted Ink. Ink was…Interesting as a friend, but Dream was definitely hesitant to take it up a level with him. Besides, he was pretty sure Ink wasn’t actually able to feel love.

“Just one, please. I’ll never ask again.” That got Dream’s attention. Being able to hold Ink to a promise-

“Even if you have to cancel at the last minute? You can never bug me for another one.”

“Even if!” Ink’s eyes brightened and shifted shapes as he spoke. Dream heaved a sigh.

“Fine, just one. But no asking again.”

“Deal! I’ll meet you here tomorrow!” And the AU guardian took off before Dream could get in another word. He heaved another sigh, wondering what he’d gotten himself into.

The next day, Dream received a phone call from Ink saying that the soulless guardian had gotten food poisoning the previous night and was too sick to make their date.

“Our agreement still holds, are you sure?” Dream could hear coughing from the other end of the line, but something about it seemed off.

“Y-Yeah, can’t even move. I-I know, no more asking.” Dream narrowed his eyes; what the heck?

“Is it bad? Do you need me to come over?”

“NO!” Dream startled, not expecting Ink to shout. Ink seemed as startled as Dream did when he spoke again. “Uh, it’s better if you don’t. I’ve got black…uh, ink. Yeah, ink all through the house. I caused a bit of a mess. You don’t want to see it.”

“Okay, then. Get better soon.” Ink abruptly hung up on him the second he finished speaking. Dream sighed. Well, at least Ink wouldn’t bother him for a date anymore.

* * *

“Hey, sweetheart. Give us a smile.”

Dream grit his teeth and held up the pamphlet he was reading to block line of sight between him and the catcaller. _‘Just ignore him and he’ll lose interest.’_

**CRASH**

The loud sound of glass shattering and metal crunching made Dream whip his head around on instinct. A large truck appeared to have careened off the road and into a shop of the sidewalk, just barely missing the catcaller from earlier. The man was on the ground, alive and apparently not badly hurt, but definitely scared out of his wits. His friends tended to him. Dream, however, was more interested in the rather familiar-looking black shadow that fled the vehicle and dove into a back alley, dripping cyan blue blood. Dream chased it.

The sound of aggressive hissing paused his pursuit; it appeared that the back alley led to a dead end. A small pool of the brightly coloured blood was starting to accumulate behind a stack of abandoned boxes. Dream sighed heavily and knelt to the ground.

“Come on out. I know you’re there and I know you’re hurt. May as well let me help.” Nightmare poked his head out just long enough to stick his tongue out at Dream before disappearing again. Alright; if that’s how Nightmare was going to be then Dream had no choice. He forced his way behind the boxes, ignoring the screeching and flailing of his stupid brother.

“No! Go away! Don’t you dare touch me!”

“Just let me fix it, you big baby!” He dodged the attacks of three sharpened tentacles and grabbed the fourth that Nightmare was quite clearly trying to hide behind him. There was a deep cut along the tip that caused Nightmare to screech when he grabbed it; or maybe Nightmare screeched because he had nothing better to do than to try and blow out Dream’s eardrums. Dream managed to corral the other three tentacles underneath him and sat on them, pinning them to the floor and leaving the tips flailing wildly but unable to harm him. Nightmare shot him a nasty look that seemed more like a pout as Dream finally began to heal the cut.

“Why do you keep chasing away everyone who hits on me?” Nightmare’s glare turned into a look of surprise and Dream couldn’t restrain from rolling his eyes. “I’m occasionally oblivious, not stupid. Once is an occurrence, twice is a coincidence, every single time for the entire five hundred and two years we’ve been alive is a pattern I’d almost call ‘yandere’. And it’s not like you were subtle about your involvement, either.”

“They’re not allowed to.” Nightmare wouldn’t look at him; the pout was back. “I should be your focus; not some insignificant worm who would only use you.” Dream paused, hands halfway through wrapping a bandage around the wound; the white fabric was already starting to be dyed black. Then he grinned.

“Aw. Is big bwother Nighty trying to protect his pwecious baby bro?” Nightmare’s horrified croak would fuel his happy dreams for years to come. He barely managed to tie off the bandage before Nightmare finally tipped him onto the ground. He landed hard on his back, wheezing with laughter.

“I do not! Just, I am the only one allowed to harm you! No one else!”

“Sure, sure,” Dream managed to squeak out amidst his laughter. “Whatever you say, brother.”

“I’m leaving!” Nightmare shoved past him, pushing him down again just as he’d managed to sit up. “I’m also disowning you!”

“No, you won’t. You love me!” The look on Nightmare’s face told him that maybe he’d pushed it a little too far. A quick portal let him escape the attacking tentacles, his laughter joined in chorus by Nightmare’s furious screeching. What a silly, overprotective big brother.


	4. Bad Sans Poly 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Gallifreyan-Pal: *rubs hands together* if u want prompts consider,,, bad sans poly and they all have separate rooms in Nightmare's castle. And one of them starts getting nightmares and stuff so they kind of go to someone else and ask if they can just curl up at the edge of their bed so they don't have to sleep alone. And consider it escalating until everyone is using the tiniest excuse to just all sleep together and eventually they just all move into Nightmare's room permanently 
> 
> Had lots of fun with this one.

The sound of the bedroom door opening woke Dust from his sleep. He heard the door close gently behind someone and he was careful not to move or open his eyes. His hand curled around the knife under his pillow, hearing the sound of soft footsteps making their way towards him. He waited patiently until the intruder was right beside his bed, and then he pounced. A startled yell alerted him to the intruder’s identity and he barely managed to twist his body so that the knife didn’t hit its target. He scowled once he stopped moving, and tucked the knife back under his pillow.

“Bleedin’ hell, Cross! I near killed you.” The red glow of the hack knife lit up the skeleton’s face, drawn instinctively as a response to danger. “What’re you even doin’ here?” Cross looked down, not meeting his eyes.

“Can I sleep with you?” Dust blinked. It took him a bit to register what Cross has said.

“What?”

“I said, can I sleep with you?” Dust blinked again. Yep, that was what he’d heard the first time. He thought briefly, then shrugged.

“Sure, I guess. Come’re.” Dust shuffled across the bed, making room for Cross. The hack knife disappeared, plunging the room back into darkness. Dust could feel Cross’ hesitation as the other skeleton carefully climbed into the vacated space and shuffled under the covers, hands hovering with light touches for far longer than they should have before he put his weight on them.

“Bad dream?” Dust could barely feel the nod Cross gave. He sighed softly, then shuffled over until he pressed up against the other skeleton.

“I’ll watch the door, you watch the window.” There was a pause, then he felt Cross nod again. The two shifted, pressing close and watching over the other’s shoulder. One of his arms came up and over Cross’ waist; he could feel small tremors that shook the monochromatic skeleton’s frame. Dust tried to convince himself that it was for protection, and not just an excuse to hold Cross.

* * *

Killer yawned as he made his way to the door; whoever was knocking on his bedroom door was far too loud for this time of the night. He opened the door and blinked wearily at the skeleton standing on the other side.

“Error, it’s late. What do you want?” The black-boned skeleton seemed just as tired as Killer himself felt, hunched over and eyelights blurring.

“My bedroom’s too far away and I’m too tired to make it.” Killer noticed that Error was using the doorframe to hold himself up. “Can I stay in yours tonight?”

“Sure, I-” A yawn interrupted Killer and he shook his head blearily. “I guess you can. If you’re okay sharing the bed.” Error nodded in reply, the motion almost sending him tumbling forward. Killer stepped away to let the other skeleton enter the room, closing the door behind him and hovering close to Error’s side as they made the trek to the bed. Killer climbed in first, letting Error take him time getting comfortable. The tear-stained skeleton tried to stay as still as possible, he didn’t want to accidentally bump Error. He twitched when a black-boned arm was thrown over his shoulders.

“You can loosen up. I’m okay for now.” Killer let himself relax, shifting into a more comfortable position. Error tugged him closer and Killer let him.

“Chair’s over there if you need it,” Killer mumbled sleepily. The last thing he felt before dropping off to sleep was Error’s nod of acknowledgement.

* * *

“I am cold. Your room is warmer than my own.” Was all Nightmare said as he pushed past Horror to enter his room. Horror shrugged and then closed the door with a little hum. When he turned around, Nightmare had already climbed into his bed and was barely visible under the covers. Horror poked a tentacle that was still showing, which immediately retracted under the covers, and climbed in himself with a snicker.

“Little Tsun Tsun~” He snickered, snuggling under the covers. He heard a hiss of annoyance from Nightmare and his grin grew wider. “Admit it, you love me.” His laugh turned into a surprised yelp when a tentacle wrapped itself around his waist, which shortly turned into a scream.

“Holy headdogs, Nighty! You’re like ice! Get away, you’re freezing!” He managed to unwrap the tentacle and shove it back over Nightmare’s way. A blue eye looked out at him from underneath the covers and wiggled a tentacle menacingly. And so Horror did the logical response; he piled as many blankets as he could find on top of Nightmare, with a few more dumped between them to act as a wall. It was sweltering, but at least they weren’t cold anymore.

* * *

Cross furrowed his brows as he stared the two skeletons before him.

“Repeat what you just said.” Killer and Horror both turned pleading, hopeful grins his way.

“Both our beds broke. Please don’t make us sleep on the floor.” Cross sighed and ushered them in.

“Nightmare’s going to have a fit tomorrow morning.”

* * *

“I wonder how many of us can fit into a single bed?”

Which is how Cross, Killer, Horror, and Dust would find out that, yes, it was possible for four of them to all fit into a single-sized bed. Provided they all stacked on top of each other properly and everyone didn’t so much as twitch. They also found out through experience that falling through a bed really, really hurt. Error would heave a sigh while patching them up and invite them to stay with him until their beds were fixed; provided they managed to scrape up a couple extra mattresses and bed frames so that their little experiment didn’t happen a fifth time.

* * *

Ni ghtmare looked incredulously at the line of skeletons waiting outside his room. He quickly counted; yep, all five of them were waiting outside his door.

“Don’t you all have your own rooms?” That wasn’t quite what he had intended to say but it was something he wanted to know. Killer stepped forward with a grin.

“Yeah, we do. But you have the more comfortable bed.” With that, Killer squeezed under his arm and pottered over to Nightmare’s bed. Nightmare watched him go before turning back to the line of skeletons. Horror was the next to approach.

“Your sheets are cleaner than mine.” Horror followed Killer’s lead and walked into the room. He clearly remembered his last time sleeping with Nightmare, though, as he made a pit stop to grab some extra blankets before heading to the bed.

“You have the better view.” While Nightmare’s attention was still on Horror, Dust made his move and entered the bedroom. Nightmare turned around, probably to argue something along the lines of that not being a proper excuse for sleeping in his bed, but was interrupted by the final two skeletons.

“And we’re here to make sure you actually get some sleep tonight, instead of working until morning.” With that, Cross and Error both took hold of an arm each and frog-marched him over to the bed, placing him in the middle. They climbed in after, pinning him down in between them as they snuggled into his sides. He could hear Killer laughing, though he couldn’t see him. Or rather, couldn’t see him until he flopped on top of all three of them. Nightmare let out a grunt of protest, Killer’s elbow had jabbed into his sternum, but he was hushed by his datemates.

“Just sleep, Nighty. Let’s just be together, all of us.” He huffed a bit but gave in to Error’s request. It was quite nice, having his datemates sprawled all around him within reach. Someone turned off his lamp and bodies shuffled around, trying to get comfortable. Killer finally rolled off him and let out a yawn.

“Goodnight, everybody.” A soft round of ‘goodnight’s responded, and Nightmare grumbled a bit before adding his own. Cross on one side, Error on the other, Killer splayed over his legs, and Horror and Dust further down. The weight of blankets and the warmth of the bodies was dragging him into sleep. He grumbled a final time before finally going to sleep.

“My bed better not be broken tomorrow.”


	5. Crink 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from wildwestiewrites: If it's okay, could you write another crink drabble? Maybe with the prompt "Crap, what have you done now?" I fckn ADORED your previous crink drabble, your writing is amazing! :D

“Sweet stars, what have you done now?”

The sentence was whispered and it wasn’t clear if the speaker actually expected an answer. It was made more confusing by the fact Dream wasn’t even looking at them, instead gaze firmly fixated on the reports in front of him. They weren’t pretty reports. Cross was unsure of what to do or say; perhaps Ink also felt like that but Cross didn’t feel much like looking over to check.

“Well?” Dream snapped, finally looking up at them. The sudden sharp tone made Cross jump a little. “Does at least _one_ of you care to explain this?” It took Cross precious seconds to realise just what the hell Dream was asking for and in that time, Ink started talking first.

“I didn’t do anything! It was because of this jackass!” Cross whipped his head around with fire in his eyes.

“Oh, really? Wasn’t it _your_ fireworks that set the forest on fire?”

“But it was your fault they went off at all!”

“Shut up, both of you!” Dream snapped, drawing their attention back to him. “I don’t care whose fault it is right now, that can be decided later. What I want to know is _what happened_.” Cross swallowed, somehow it was more unnerving when Dream wasn’t shouting. The room fell quiet for some time.

“Now,” Dream’s voice broke the awkward stillness; it was now much softer, quieter. “Explain to me exactly what happened, in the correct order. No blame throwing, no squabbling; just the chronological events.” Cross looked over at Ink and found Ink looking back. They sat in silence for a bit before turning back to Dream.

“I think it would have started when we visited Grillby’s and tried those new shots?” Cross looked over at Ink, trying to remember, to find the rainbow skeleton shaking his head.

“No, it started at the house party a few weeks ago when we were talking with Killer.”

“But _Grillby’s_ is where we made the bet.”

“But the _party_ is where Killer first brought up the idea of it.”

“No arguing.” Dream butted in with a tense smile. “So you had a discussion with Killer that resulted in you two making a bet?” Cross shot a nasty look at Ink before continuing.

“He said something about how people get too attached to particular weapons and attacks. Getting so used to something that you can’t function without it. We brushed him off at the time.”

“And then?”

“We got a little tipsy.” Cross gave Ink another nasty look as the other skeleton cut him off. “And we decided to bet that we could do without our weapons for a week. No hack-knife, no brush.”

“Fuck me sideways.” Dream mumbled under his breath, face firmly planted in his hands.

“We were pretty deep into the shots at that point.” Ink admitted with a shamed face. “So, the bet made, we left, and Cross then heads to the Cra-” Cross pretty much leaps across the room to slap a hand over Ink’s mouth.

“That is not an important part of what happened! It has nothing to do with what happened!” Ink’s eyes turned dark and Cross removed his hand with a curse when Ink bit him.

“Yes, it is! Or is it not how you wound up with that mace?”

“Not directly! You’re just telling that to embarrass me! Or should we mention you and the He-” Ink’s hand dropped onto Cross’ shoulder and shook him, the shock stopping him mid-sentence.

“That is _not_ related!”

“No more than what you were going to say!”

“Stars above, Shut UP!” Dream’s hands crashed onto the table, scaring both the quarrelling skeletons into silence.  Dream stood up as tall as he could manage (not much), and glared at the both of them. “I am going out.” His voice cut like a knife. “While I am gone, you two work out, like _Adults_ , what is and isn’t relevant to what I want to know. In the meantime, I am going to throttle Killer because the one thing I _can_ be certain of is he is responsible in some way. Please, Get. Your Shit. Together.” And, with that, Dream stormed out of the room, the door crashing behind him.

Several minutes passed, but once they were certain that Dream was well and truly gone, Ink turned to Cross with a grin.

“Told you it would work.” Cross grinned back, slinging his arm around Ink’s shoulders.

“It worked like a charm. He sure lost his patience.” They sniggered, remembering the way Dream looked when he lost his temper. Ink grabbed Cross’ hand and examined it.

“I didn’t bite you too hard, did I? I was trying to be as gentle as I could.” Cross shook his head, bringing their joined hands up to his mouth and kissed them.

“Barely felt it. I’m fine.” Ink grinned happily, tugging his boyfriend close for a hug. Cross hugged back, planting a kiss on Ink’s cheek.

“So, we run while he’s gone?”

“We run so fucking far.”


	6. Bad Sans Poly 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous Prompt: bad sans poly au where they're all patients in a mental hospital and nightmare is their therapist?
> 
> Honestly, I have a fear of mental hospitals and I didn't expect to enjoy this prompt as much as I did because of that, but I really did.

Cross perked up at the familiar sounding knock at his door. With a smile, he told the knocker to come in, clambering to his feet to greet them. Nightmare stepped into the room, a matching smile on his own face, closing the door behind him.

“Good afternoon, Cross.”

“Hi, Nighty.” Cross chirped back, pulling the shorter male by the hand over to his bed. Nightmare chuckled but did not resist as Cross seated the two of them on the mattress.

“How has today been for you?”

“It’s been good.” Cross began pawing at Nightmare’s braided hair. Understanding what he was asking for, Nightmare pulled off the elastic band and shook his hair out. Cross’ eyes lit up and he immediately began running his fingers gently through the black locks.

“How has Chara been today?”

“Quiet.” Cross had finished freeing the hair from its braid formation and was beginning to braid smaller sections together, eyes focused intently on his hands. “He’s appeared a couple times but he hasn’t spoken. I think he’s ignoring me.”

“Perhaps that is a good thing. We’ll just have to see.” Cross nodded, but didn’t take his eyes off his work; braiding, loosening, then braiding again. The repetitive actions grounding him and calming his thoughts. “So, what have you been doing while I’ve been gone? Tell me the story of today.”

Cross beamed and chattered away to the doctor, telling him everything and feeling the loneliness that had been haunting him drain away.

* * *

Nightmare practically flew down the hallway, trying to reach his destination as quickly as possible. It was extremely late, and he could barely be considered dressed; he’d barely had the time to put on shoes and certainly not enough to change from his sleepwear into actual clothes. But he hardly registered that. It didn’t matter, one of his charges needed him.

He felt his heart rate pick up as he neared his destination. He didn’t bother speaking to any of the other staff that milled around the door in concern; he’d already been briefed on the situation on the way over and it would only waste precious time. He shooed them away, them looming outside the door would only cause more anxiety for the one within, and took a moment to calm himself. If he wasn’t calm, then he had no hope of helping his charge. And then he knocked.

It was several heart-stopping seconds before he heard a soft voice giving him permission to enter, the distressed waver in it almost breaking him. He gently opened the door, trying to cause as little noise as possible, and quietly stepped into the room. No lights were on, and Nightmare left them off; he didn’t need them to see and it would be better to keep stimuli to a minimum. Curled up in the corner of the bed, hands clasped firmly over his face, was Error.

Nightmare took hesitant steps forward, always checking to see whether he’d crossed Error’s comfort zone. He kneeled down beside the bed and began to speak in a soft voice.

“Error? You will be okay. Nothing will hurt you. Are you able to look at me?” Error shook his head in reply; at this distance, Nightmare could see the tears streaming between his fingers. “Okay, you don’t have to. Do you still keep your medicine in your drawer?” Error nodded, and Nightmare went over to the little stand next to the bed. He carefully opened the drawer and what he found inside caused him to sigh.

“Oh, Error.” Loose pills rolled around inside the drawer, the bottle itself half empty with the lid firmly on. Made to look to anyone checking the bottle that Error had been taking them as instructed, unless they checked his hiding spot as well. He was going to have to have another discussion with Error about why taking his medicine was important, and be more careful when he ran his checks. For now, he grabbed two of the pills and opened the water bottle he’d brought with him.

“Error, I need you to open your mouth for me. I’m going to try and avoid touching you but I need your cooperation.” It took a few moments but Error eventually nodded, parting his hands and opening his mouth. Nightmare, ever so carefully, dropped the pills inside Error’s opened mouth. “I’ve got some water here, I’m going to give it to you.” With that, he lifted the water bottle up to Error’s mouth. The patient was hesitant at first, barely sipping enough to help swallow the pills, but soon was guzzling heavily from the bottle, hands leaving his face to grasp it; all the crying must have dehydrated him. Nightmare let him take it and sat back.

“Do you want to talk about what happened tonight or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow. Please.” Error had finished drinking but still clutched the water bottle like it was a lifeline. “Just. Not tonight. Not now.” Nightmare nodded.

“Okay, not tonight. Do you want me to stay with you?” Error nodded with desperation and Nightmare settled in. He coaxed Error out of the corner and back into the bed proper, capping the bottle since Error refused to let go of it. When Error was settled, he began to tell what he could recollect of the story he had recently been reading, letting the fantasy tales slowly lure the man back into slumber. Nightmare stayed with him even after he’d fallen asleep, telling all the stories he could in hopes of bringing his charge pleasant dreams this time.

* * *

“Have you ever played chess before?” Dust raised an eyebrow at his doctor as the shorter man entered the room, carrying a strange looking case.

“Never had anyone t’ teach me how. Why?” He watched Nightmare carry the case over to the table and set it down on top. He undid the latches and opened up the case to reveal a board with a checkerboard pattern.

“Because I think it’s something you’d enjoy.” The doctor began setting up black and white game pieces into their squares on the board. “You’ve liked games with high degrees of logic before, and it’ll give you something to focus on.” Curious, Dust pulled up a chair and watched Nightmare set up the playing board, noting where each piece went. “So, white goes first and it’s a turn-based game. This piece, the king, is your goal; capture your opponent’s and you win. The different pieces each have different ways of moving.” Dust picked up the instruction booklet that had fallen from the case while Nightmare talked. Listening to Nightmare’s explanation with one ear and scanning the words in the booklet, Dust found himself becoming more and more intrigued with the game. He turned back to the pieces before him and studied them carefully, mapping out ideas in his head. Nightmare noticed him looking and gave him a smile.

“So, are we interested in playing a game?” Dust gave a cheeky grin at the man.

“Don’ think I don’ know what ya doin’. You’re hopin’ I’ll chatter away while my mind’s busy.” Nightmare held up his hands with a sly smirk and Dust’s grin grew wider. “Just so ya know ya didn’t fool me.” His eyes then settled on the game pieces once more and he pulled his chair in closer. “So, let’s play. I go first, yeah?”

Nightmare nodded and Dust began to contemplate his choices. Much as Nightmare hoped, Dust soon began to talk about anything and everything while his mind was occupied with other things. And the doctor settled back for a decent game of chess.

* * *

Killer groaned when he heard the knock on the door. As if the situation wasn’t bad enough, someone had tattled to Nightmare about him. He groaned again into his hands as the knocking continued.

“Bugger off!” It came out more like the whine of a bratty child, but he didn’t care at this point. He just wanted to sulk. It was clear Nightmare wasn’t feeling much like listening at this moment, because the door soon opened and Killer could hear feet stepping inside. “Please go away.” The change in tone got a pause, but the door closed and the feet started walking towards him. He groaned and rolled over, away from the approaching man.

“Killer,” No, not _that_ tone. “Look at me.” Unwillingly, automatically, he found himself rolling back over to look his doctor in the face. When he did, he winced and let out a whine. Nightmare was standing over him, ‘I’m-not-mad-I’m-just-disappointed’ face on, and staring at him in that way that never failed to make Killer feel like he was a little kid who got sent to the principal’s office for shooting spitballs. It was already working on making him feel guilty and he squirmed. The black-haired man sighed and squatted down to eye-level with him. “Killer, what did we talk about when someone makes us angry?”

“Remove yourself from the situation.” He unwillingly mumbled under his breath.

“And what did you do?”

“…Punched that dick in the face.” Killer gritted his teeth, already feeling the former anger making a resurgence. “But he deserved it! What that guy said-”

Nightmare shushed him, threading his fingers through Killer’s hair. Killer whined, hating how comforting it felt. Once Killer had calmed a bit, Nightmare began to speak. “What he said about your brother was wrong and out of line; there is no doubt he was provoking you into a fight. Trust me, he is in just as much trouble as you are. But, he would be the only one in trouble if you had just left.”

Killer whined again, then purred at the feeling of fingers massaging his scalp. Nightmare sighed, but his stern face had dropped into a soft smile. “What am I going to do with you?” Killer didn’t respond to the question, he didn’t think he needed to, and instead choose to tug Nightmare towards the bed. The shorter man chuckled, kicking off his shoes and laying down on the bed. Killer quickly slotted himself against Nightmare’s side, head resting on Nightmare’s chest and Nightmare’s fingers still in his hair.

“Can we stay like this? For a little while?” Killer could already feel himself drifting off to sleep as he spoke, his anger fading away like a bad dream. He could almost hear Nightmare’s smile when he spoke.

“Of course.”

* * *

Nightmare calmly walked down the hallway, a small smile on his face. He carried a plate in his hands; plastic, since porcelain broke into sharp shards far too easily. He watched the room numbers, ignoring the sounds of other patients, until he arrived at his destination. He freed a hand, balancing the plate on one arm, and rapped on the door. He heard shuffling inside.

“Already time? Think you’re a bit early, Nighty.” There was amusement in the voice, so he took that as his permission. Opening the door, he shuffled in and looked at his charge. Horror gave him his signature grin in return before spying what he was carrying. “A hot dog? Aw, you _do_ love me, Nighty!” Nightmare smiled and offered the plate.

“I noticed you didn’t eat much at lunch today. I figured you’d be hungry by now.” With a chirpy thanks, Horror took the plate from him and began scarfing down the food. Nightmare sat down and waited until Horror had finished eating before speaking again. “So, what’s wrong? It’s very unlike you to not eat. What’s caused this?”

Horror seemed to fold in on himself a little at the questions, picking at the edges of the plate. “It’s nothing. I just…got a letter from home today.” The answer made Nightmare straighten a bit, mind starting to form plans based on where this would lead. Horror was unique in that regard, compared to all his other charges. Killer and Dust had nothing but memories and gravestones left; as for Error and Cross…quite frankly, they were in here for their own protection as much as other people’s. But Horror still had people waiting for him outside these walls, and letters from home always brought upheaval.

“Bad news?”

“No. Nothing bad.” Horror paused, eyes locked on his fingers. “Nothing great, but nothing bad. Same old  Same old, honestly. It’s just, something ‘bout it…” Nightmare sighed, getting up and sitting next to Horror. He put an arm around his charge’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

“It reminded you of things that you usually avoid thinking about.” Horror nodded, plate discarded to the side as he leant into Nightmare.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen Paps. He’s probably changed so much, I probably wouldn’t recognise him.” Nightmare brought his other hand around to card through Horror’s hair.

“Do you want to see him? I can file for a visit if you want.”

“No.” Horror shook his head, not looking at Nightmare. “I..I don’t want him to see me like this.” Horror snuggled further into Nightmare’s side. “Just. Can you hold me?” Nightmare nodded, his cheek resting on top of Horror’s head.

“I can do that.”

* * *

“These are extreme breaches of conduct! Why won’t you listen to my concerns?”

The head doctor sighed as his office was filled with the shouts of one of his more opinionated senior doctors. He leaned forward, adjusting his glasses, and glared hard at the noise maker.

“I am listening to your concerns. However, _you_ are not listening when I tell you that those concerns are unfounded.”

“I hear, but I see you do nothing! I have some very serious concerns about Dr Nightmare’s behaviour towards his patients, but I am brushed off every week with nothing being done to resolve the issue.”

The head doctor sighed again and stood up from his desk. Making his way to the door, he gestured for the other doctor to follow him. “Then please, follow me and explain your concerns.” The senior seemed a little thrown by the request but quickly followed, remaining hot on the head doctor’s heels while shouting his worries.

“He gets far too close to his patients, unprofessionally close; He engages in physical contact with his patients; He is very lenient with them instead of enforcing strict structure; He often visits them outside of scheduled times or sudden incidents; He is unbelievably informal with them; I’ve even caught him sneaking them extra food or letting them play with his hair!” The head doctor began to lead the two of them down a particular hallway, listening with half an ear towards the ranting doctor.

“In case you think this is some kind of grudge or vendetta, I’m worried for Dr Nightmare as well! These are some very dangerous patients he’s looking after, yet he refuses to allow guards in or to even carry a weapon for self-defence! He’s going to get someone hurt, and it’s most likely going to be himself! It’s idiotic! It’s reckless! It’s-”

The head doctor stopped so suddenly that the other doctor nearly ran into him. He spun on his heels and tapped at the door they were standing next to with a stern look. Seeing the other doctor’s confused expression he gestured for the other man to look through the room window with him, and noted with satisfaction the surprised widening of the other man’s eyes.

“It’s working.” He whispered to the other doctor. Inside the room was a sleeping Nightmare, surrounded by all five of his patients; circling him like guards protecting a precious treasure. All five were calm, genuinely happy smiles on their faces, and peacefully talking with each other. For such dangerous patients who had previously not been allowed to leave their own rooms for any reason, it was borderline a miracle.

He moved away from the window, watching the other man move away as well, and addressed him. “Contrary to your belief, I am aware that what Dr Nightmare’s methods are not what is usually done, or even acceptable. When I first became aware of this, I had many of the same concerns that you yourself do now. That this was a young doctor rushing in recklessly and only going to cause everyone trouble. But I cannot fault the results.”

He gestured to the door with a disbelieving smile. “Every patient in that room; hopeless cases, all of them. I do not like classifying patients as ‘hopeless’, but no doctor, not even myself, had been able to make even a dent of progress with any of them. But then Dr Nightmare fell under my employment, and he’s made it almost seem effortless in helping each and every one of them take leaps and strides forward. Yes, I am aware that, under any other circumstances, the rules and boundaries that Dr Nightmare has crossed would be more than enough to permanently suspend his license; but, in the face of the sheer miracles he’s worked, I chose to turn a blind eye.”

The head doctor turned to leave. “If it does go wrong, if he gets hurt by his patients or he hurts them, then I will make sure he feels the full consequences of his choices. But I don’t want any patient to be stuck in these rooms forever, and he is our best hope of getting these five to a point where we can seriously start discussing their discharge papers. For that reason alone, he has my support.”

“Besides,” The head doctor paused to look over his shoulder at the other man. “I do not wish to be the one to tell those particular patients that we would be taking away their favourite doctor.” And with that, he walked away.

The remaining doctor watched him walk away with a hint of confusion. The man looked through the room window once more, and soon broke out into a cold sweat. All five patients, their doctor still sleeping peacefully in the centre, staring creepily at him with wide, unnatural grins full of sharp teeth. He quickly backed away from the window and walked away in a hurry, feeling remarkably like he just stepped on the toes of the devil.


End file.
